


What Goes Down Under Tables

by Marrilyn



Series: Kinks [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boredom, Dinner, F/F, Footsie, Kinks, Kinky, Naughty Rowena MacLeod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:10:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Stuck at a boring dinner with the Winchesters, Rowena decides to have some fun with you.





	What Goes Down Under Tables

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a footsie scene from hotdiggitydammit's fanfiction.

Dinner with the Winchester brothers was always a dull occurrence. The food would be nothing special, but still tasty. Dean would overstuff his mouth to the point where he wouldn't be able to breathe properly, which, in turn, would prompt Sam to chastise him. Castiel would just shake his head in disapproval, and Jack would laugh in that cute, boyish way that always made you smile. Rowena would scoff and roll her eyes, muttering under her breath about the elder Winchester's dining habits that were more that of a Neanderthal than a human, and Dean would try to defend himself, only to end up choking on the food in his mouth. You would laugh, but for the most part you'd keep to yourself.

It was the same every single time.

Tonight, though, there was a difference..

Sam and Dean were going on and on about their current case — the case they'd invited you and Rowena to help with. You weren't paying too much attention, focused entirely on your meal; you weren't too fond of getting involved with the brothers' business, and had only come because of Rowena.  _ She  _ was the one whose help they'd actually sought. You just happened to come with the package, a present nobody asked for, or needed, for that matter.

Not that you gave a damn. Where Rowena went, you went. Those were the rules.

You were thinking of what you would do when you got home when something touched your leg and startled you back to reality. Something small and warm, incredibly soft, was creeping up your leg like a snake. It stopped on your thigh and curled into it, short nails gently grazing your skin.

Fingers?

No, not fingers.

Toes!

You shot a look across the table, straight at Rowena, who was smirking in that way that promised trouble. That way that drove you mad with desire and frustrated you to no end at the same time.

_ Really?, _ you mouthed. Rowena was no stranger to footsies, but to do it in public? With four people around?

She shrugged, the smirk never leaving her face. Her eyes glinted devilishly.

That woman was nothing but trouble.

Rowena's foot crawled upwards. You snuck a hand under the table and caught her ankle in an iron grip. Your eyes locked with hers, deadly, threatening. A warning.

That only made her laugh.

_ Come on, _ she mouthed.

You shook your head. Not in public. Especially not around Winchesters.

She pouted.  _ I'm bored. _

So were you. You shrugged, nonchalant.

_ Please. _ She wiggled her foot, tried to free it. Your grip tightened with each attempt. She sent you wounded puppy eyes.

The look did things to you that you didn't want to admit, but you weren't letting on.  _ No. _

Rowena sighed, defeated.  _ Fine. _

You smiled, happy she could finally see reason. You released her and resumed eating your meal.

Big mistake.

Not a moment after she was free again, Rowena's foot crawled between your legs. You shot her your deadliest, most threatening glare. Dear god, the woman was insatiable!

She blinked, once, twice, three times, like an innocent little girl accused of something horrible. Her smile was small, almost timid, but you could see right through the act.

She was enjoying this; enjoying riling you up, teasing you, making you lose the composure you were trying your hardest to maintain in the company of people you didn't fully trust. It was a game to her, a play, and she was the lead actress.

You were the intern she was playing like a fiddle.

Rowena's foot nested against your pussy, and you cursed yourself for allowing her to talk you into wearing a skirt. Her big toe pressed into you, into your clit. A hiss escaped you before you could even think to stop it; an involuntary reaction you couldn't control, one Rowena never ceased to elicit.

Her toe curled against you, and, as if on cue, heat bubbled up inside you, boiling, seething. Your panties were soaked in an instant. Rowena raised an eyebrow, as smug as ever, no doubt feeling the dampness against her skin.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable, inwardly cursing her out. Cursing  _ yourself _ out for letting her have so much control over you. She barely even had to try; a single touch of hers was enough to drive you wild.

"Damn it, Rowena!" you exclaimed frustratedly.

Voices around you quieted, all eyes shifting to the two of you. Confused. Curious. Demanding an explanation for your sudden outburst.

The smirk remained on Rowena's face, her signature wicked, amused one, reserved for you only. Her way of teasing without having to utter a single word. She pulled her foot back, and you let out a breath you'd been holding, instantly relaxing.

You glared at her with threat clear in your eyes. You were turned on now, and, seeing as it was all her fault, you fully expected her to take care of it later on.

Her response was a smile.

She was looking forwards to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by OswinTheStrange.


End file.
